


SURVIVAL 101

by DeanandCas



Series: Survival 101 [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, Alternate Universe - Supernatural (TV) Fusion, Fluff, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-23
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 03:05:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 17,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11888613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanandCas/pseuds/DeanandCas
Summary: Commanders and  Starfleet Academy Instructors Dean Winchester and Cas'tiel coordinate a survival training in a hostile environment for their cadets. The forced coexistence of the two will compel them to review their most ingrained concepts.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Sobrevivência 101](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4055953) by [DeanandCas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanandCas/pseuds/DeanandCas). 



> This story was originally written in Brazilian Portuguese. I'm trying my best to translate this fic to English but it's unbetaed so if you spot any mistakes feel free to correct me or give any suggestions to improve understanding. Thanks for your patience!

2295 

Dean yawned and stretched. The night had been good and he glanced over his shoulder to watch the beautiful Orion native still asleep, her bare, perfect body languidly splayed on the sheets.

He had thought of leaving before she woke up, but he had overslept. Perhaps there was still time... He stood agilely without disturbing the girl, took his clothes off the floor, and moved away from the bed, just enough to put on his trousers.

He left quietly, leaving the young woman whose skin gleamed lightly in the sunshine that entered through the window. Green had always been his favorite color, he thought, amused as he walked swiftly toward his own apartment.

He still had plenty to do before boarding. He should not be late when his traveling companion was a Vulcan.

 

Cas'tiel had been sitting all night in that position. Now that the day was approaching incense still burned in front of him, in a container made of volcanic rock.

His hands were joined to his chest, only the tips of his fingers touching, in a gesture of deep concentration. His face, whose features always seemed carved in stone, had a slight variation in its contemplative state. His eyelids, relaxed, moved slightly with the gentle gyration of the eyes hidden by them. Eyes of an unusual blue, source of eternal curiosity for his countrymen. Controlled curiosity in the face of the color so few of the natives of his planet exhibited, interest always manifested only in a restrained lift of eyebrows.

In other, remote times, Cas'tiel would have been considered a sacred man, possessor of supernatural powers. This belief no longer had place in the culture dedicated to the logic of the present, but still aroused interest by its rarity.

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, wearing only a light robe adorned with the symbols of his culture, he slowly stretched forward, stretching the lower limbs, with strong, well-delineated muscles. His fingers parted and his arms were thrown toward his feet in a graceful movement, his torso bowing deeply, forehead touching his knees.

He held his posture for a few moments, before straightening his back and opening his eyes, with a slow breath.

His luggage for the one-month mission was ready, consisting only of uniforms, a meditation tunic identical to the one he wore at the time, and some toiletries. The only concession he made to himself was the inclusion of the most important work of Surak, the idealizing philosopher of modern Vulcan society, supreme defender of Logic. It was his last step before submitting to the Kolinahr discipline, in which the natives of his planet completely purged their emotions for total dedication to this discipline and way of life.

He headed to the bathroom for a shower. He was not thinking about being late. He was never late.

When Dean arrived, exhausted, he found his Vulcan colleague from Starfleet Academy already inside the shuttle. It was early, the cadets were not supposed to get there within an hour of launch. He had thought of going over the mission protocols and checking the vehicle before Cas'tiel arrived, but he saw now that he was not fast enough. The pre-flight checklist was already completed on the datapad on the console.

The Vulcan turned, his posture as rigid as ever and a tone without any intonation, greeted him:

"Hello, Commander Winchester."

"Good morning, Commander Cas'tiel. I see that we are already ahead in preparing for the takeoff. "

"Yes, I have verified that everything is in accordance with the specifications. We can proceed as soon as the cadets arrive. "

Their mission for the next month was to train a cadet group in survival and isolation. They would be taken to a planet, whose location was secret, to be left on the surface, using the knowledge of standard procedures of survival in hostile environment. That was Dean Winchester's specialty. He taught classes on the subject to the more advanced classes.

Cas'tiel was an expert in Exobiological Psychology. He had studied the Psychology issues of various peoples which were part of the United Federation of Planets, with specializations in three different cultures besides Vulcan and Earth. He had the task of monitoring the reactions of the cadets to the environment to which they would be exposed and the relationships that would be built between them during the training.

He had worked on other occasions with the colleague who would accompany him this time, but never before for such a long period or in such complete isolation. He wasn’t sure what to expect from forced coexistence with the human known to be extroverted and extremely fond of the free expression of his passions. He had volunteered, for it seemed to him a necessary test, determined how he was to take a leave of absence from the Academy for two years after his present mission to travel to Vulcan and undergo training designed to purge him forever of his emotions.

Soon after of Dean’s arrival the cadets also began to get to the launch pad. Most of them were human, but not all were Earth natives, several had come from the Martian colonies or outposts of the Federation. The average age among them was eighteen years, while the age of the others varied according to the species. The four Deltas were extremely young, despite their white hair. They had not reached adulthood yet, but their intellectual and psychological development made them join the Academy at an early age. Already the small group of Tellarites was the one that contained the older ones, its culture only allowing that they moved away of their home planet after reaching middle age. The group was still composed of two Andorians and a couple of Caitlians. There was only one Vulcan, an intelligent and strong young woman called T'Niv.

Being all present and accommodated, the auxiliary ship carried them aboard the USS Kansas, which would take them to the planet where the training period would take place. Each cadet group was taken to a different location in order to always be presented with new challenges and to be able to increase the knowledge of the academy instructors.

This time, their destiny was the distant and frozen planet Talamir, near the border of the Romulan Neutral Zone.

The cadets were left in a frozen plain. They have brought with them all the survival equipment required for their stay in that inhospitable place. As soon as all the containers had been removed from the shuttle, Dean and Cas'tiel headed for their lodging.

Located on a hill that was a few miles from the point the cadets had been left, the simple housing contained only what was needed for student monitoring and basic activities. Beyond the hangar, where there was room to house the small ship in which they had come and a small gym, there was a common room, which served as a recreation area and dining room. A food replicator was located there, serving a limited variety of dishes. Two small dormitories, a bathroom and a laboratory, which could also serve as an infirmary, completed the space to which the instructors would be confined for at least thirty days.

The metal construction was invisible to the cadets under a special shield. They could observe without being seen, but in the event of an emergency, the students could be taken there for medical attention.

Dean stepped inside and quickly stirred the temperature controls. It was too cold for him, so he wondered what it would be like for the native of the scorching planet of Vulcan. Not that Cas'tiel showed any discomfort, but Dean had lived close enough to Vulcans to know that when his ears reached that blue-green hue they were almost in hypothermia. He raised the temperature to a few degrees higher than he was accustomed, thinking of Cas'tiel well-being.

He asked if Cas'tiel had a preference for any of the rooms and received a negative reply. Dean walked into what seemed most inviting - what was rather difficult, since there was only a single bed, a cylindrical shaped dresser, a desk with a computer terminal and a chair in each. There were no windows in the lodge, any outside observation made by cameras. Without pictures on the walls the environment was cold and desolate, the metal walls in a homogeneous gray tone.

Cas'tiel seemed as comfortable as a Vulcan seemed at ease, anywhere. He deposited his luggage in his spare bedroom and turned on the screen into the living room to watch the first moments of the cadets in their activity.

Dean watched intently, for the first few hours were crucial in the process of survival. In a short time a young human, coming from an outpost on the border of the Klingon Neutral Zone, began to stand out as a leader, working together with the Vulcan. Both were determined and realized that together they could command the action. Joanna Harvelle and T'Niv quickly organized the groups, establishing tasks and beginning the construction of shelters. The tellarites and two of the deltas left in search groups, while the others did research in the area of the camp and established the work base.

Dean knew Joanna and admired his resolute and strong attitude. When one of the Andorians had tried to question one of his suggestions, he had been silenced by her speech and determined actions. It was up to him to assume the position she had set for him.

Dean laughed, amused by the situation, while Cas'tiel did not take his eyes off the screen or sketch any reaction. In a few minutes he had his datapad and made some notes. Dean was still just watching, his equipment still inside the suitcase that was left in his bedroom.

After about two hours the cadets had assembled a basic structure of an advanced Starfleet research base. They had on-site research assignments, as well as finding water and food sources, since both potable water and emergency rations were limited.

Luckily the planet was endowed with a breathable atmosphere to all members of the team, so they were dispensed with the use of special outfits, as had happened with Dean during his own student expedition.               

When most of the members of the expedition who were in the camp retired for the night, Cas'tiel got up and went to his room. He had completed his initial remarks and intended to read a little before resting as well.

He returned to the living room, where Dean had replicated a simple meal. He offered to do the same for the Vulcan, but he refused politely, preparing only an herbal infusion, sweetened with honey.

Dean chewed the food with his eyes fixed on his roommate. In all those hours they had exchanged only half a dozen words. He had now sat in front of him, with a thick volume written in archaic Vulcan characters - Dean was grateful for his linguistic studies with Professor Singer in his Academy time - and sipped his tea occasionally. Dean thought that perhaps he should time the reading of each page or the interval between each gulp. Cas'tiel was extremely methodical, even for a Vulcan.

"Cas'tiel? _Cas_... Can I call you Cas? Your name is kind of complicated... " he said, feeling a little too conscious for a second when confronted with his colleague's focused stare. "...What do you do for fun?"

"Well, Commander Winch-"

"Call me Dean, please, no formalities since we'll be both confined here for a month," he said, with a smile that had every intention of being captivating but that was totally ignored.

"Dean, then. I am not opposed to using the abbreviated version of my name, although no one has ever asked me to do so. Cas'tiel is a very old name and very respected on my planet. As for ‘fun’, I am a man of quiet habits, I enjoy reading, listening to music and sometimes a game of chess."

"What kind of music?" Dean asked, finding the only common points there and reading.

"I am partial to Vulcan chamber music and the works of the Baroque period from Earth. I also appreciate some operas, especially those composed by Mozart and the Andorian Tilel Pekavv."

"No Romulan pop music or Klingon opera? I'm disappointed!"

"I must remind you that both Romulan and Klingon music are considered subversive within the confines of the Federation and therefore forbidden. I would not have them among my preferences, anyway. From what I know, they seem to me rather simplistic expressions, destined for the uncompromising entertainment of the masses. " 

"As far as I'm concerned, Romulan beer is also banned within the confines of the Federation, but I have seen it often served on official occasions on various planets. I wouldn't think you were such a snob at your musical taste. I see we have little in common in this area. "

 "Do you enjoy Klingon opera?"

"No, Cas, I'm a man who appreciates 'rock and roll' in all its forms, even if it's meant for _the uncompromising entertainment of the masses_." That last expression said with a slightly amused tone, as if trying to provoke some emotional reaction In the Vulcan.

Cas'tiel turned his eyes to his book again, as if he had ended that conversation. Dean Winchester had always seemed to him to be an extremely uninteresting man, with his reputation as a person given to excesses. He had to admit, however, that the Academy had high standards for admission of its instructors and that those expressive green eyes denoted sharp intelligence. Maybe spending some time together would make Cas’tiel have a different perception of him.

Dean got up, stretched, and said good night, retiring to his bedroom to watch some movie on his datapad. If the routine would be like this until the end of the mission, it was going to be completely dull, he thought disgustedly. On the other hand, those blue eyes had never seemed so interesting before... And Cas’tiel’s pointed ears were... definitely sexy.              

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story the characters of the Supernatural universe are embedded in the Star Trek universe at the time of the films of Captain James T. Kirk and his crew, around 2295 (after the events of "Star Trek V - The Final Frontier"). The names of the alien races, references to the United Federation of Planets, Starfleet, Starfleet Academy, Surak, Kolinahr, and others that I will not mention here at this time for spoilers are all in the series. I have taken liberties, however, with some customs and characteristics of peoples, including the Vulcans. The training to which the cadets submit here also has no references, having been imagined by the author.


	2. Chapter 2

_ Commander Dean Winchester - Personal log, Stardate 27582.4: _ _Day 2 of training in Talamir. The cadets started well, although the Tellarites did not interact with the others. Jo Harvelle, as expected, took the lead. In the instructors lodge, boredom foreseen throughout the stay. Vulcans are not very good at random conversations. Thankfully I brought my film collection and some digital copies of  "Orion's Busty Beauties"._

Dean dictated the entry into his personal log before getting out of bed. The mattress, like every standard Starfleet bed, was uncomfortable. Maybe it was Starfleet’s way of reminding him that he had work to do. He walked to the bathroom and saw Cas'tiel having his morning meal in front of the observation screen. He smiled. As expected, the Vulcan in his impeccable uniform was already devoting himself to work.

He got dressed and went to join his colleague, replicating bacon, eggs and black coffee. With the plate in his hands he commented:

"I see that the Tellarites continue to isolate themselves from the rest of the group."

"Yes, but Harvelle seems to have some strategy to integrate them. They’re organizing the work teams for the day. T'Niv and Par Elkk are in charge of drinking water detection and Dar Cattill will lead the hunting expedition as the group that left yesterday detected a herd of violet _jomatus_ a few miles south of the camp. Vitus Loll is in charge of detecting edible plants. "

"Following the procedures according to the book. These are my girls! "He had a special appreciation for the cadets Harvelle and T'Niv, being his two best pupils. In this class, in particular, the female cadets stood out in every way and this was now translated into practice. The Tellarites, coming from a planet where patriarchy was the form of social organization, clearly resented the female command structure that had established itself in only a few hours. But if they couldn’t get over their established customs they would be doomed to fail, in this mission and in the Starfleet. Dean hoped they would overcome their prejudices and act the way it was expected of them.

Cas'tiel already had several notes, Dean could see. In order not to seem less efficient, he went up to the room and took his work datapad. He used to keep a simple but complete record of the facts, which he would write later, in a more elaborate form. Each of the cadets had his personal record for activity evaluation, and Dean was an excellent observer. His final reports were greatly appreciated for brevity and precision. But he did not know why, he felt compelled to impress the fellow Vulcan somehow. Maybe he needed a challenge to feel less bored.

The days would be like this. A routine of observations was established, the instructors could alternate in the record of the facts and later they would compare their conclusions. At times, they watched the action together and could intervene, if necessary. Dean hoped nothing unusual would happen if everyone followed the Starfleet manuals they had brought in and studied throughout the semester.

Cas'tiel turned off his datapad and stood up, disposing of the utensils he had used for the morning meal. Dean noticed that he had eaten only some fruit and cereal. He recalled that the Vulcans did not consume animal protein except in emergency situations.

Dean stayed there for another hour finishing his notes and then went looking for his companion. He found him running on the treadmill in the gym by the hangar.

It was an impressive sight. The tall, thin Vulcan native had changed his uniform to a white t-shirt and the black shorts with the Academy emblem. Cas’tiel showed a perfect rhythm in his stride. He seemed to be taking a walk in the park, since there was not even a drop of sweat on his skin. Not even one of the strands of her hair seemed out of place, the perfect fringe over his forehead. He ran without the slightest effort, only the necessary muscles contracting. His eyes were fixed on the screen in front of him, a miniature of the one in the common room. Even while exercising, he didn’t take his eyes off the cadets. He should be making notes on the datapad inside his head. He looked like a machine, like most Vulcans.               

Dean didn’t like running as a form of exercise, preferring weight lifting, but he might as well enjoy an athlete like Cas'tiel in action. Despite being a renowned academic, he was also known for his participation in various sporting events, having run several marathons.

Dean,the young commander who had grown up in Oberon, an Earth colony in Sector 001, was a lover of beauty. He knew how to find it both in the soft curves of Orion's girls and in the muscular body of Vulcan intellectuals who were also marathoners. His pupils widened, wondering what it would be like to touch those strong arms and the well defined abdomen that was suggested by the adherent fabric of the t-shirt. He was a sensualist and he couldn’t help it, though he knew from Cas'tiel's story that it was almost impossible. The colleague was a consummate bachelor, living almost like a monk.

If there was any challenge worth it, that was it, he thought. But it should not cause any kind of stress in their professional relationship. He decided, after all, that some inconsequential flirtation wouldn’t hurt. Probably his attempts would go unnoticed to his colleague, but would make things a little less monotonous for himself.

 

That night, while they were eating, they discussed the events of the day. Dean’s notes were complemented by Cas'tiel's observations. He had a keen insight into the cadets and that was quite interesting for Dean's work. His training would benefit if their collaboration happen again in the future.

"Thanks for the remarks, Cas. They complement my notes perfectly. I have a similar expedition scheduled for six months from now, wouldn’t you like to accompany me again? I think we could do a really good job together. If you are interested, of course."

"I am sorry, Dean. Soon after our return, I intend to take a leave of absence from the Academy for an extended period of time. "

"Oh, I didn’t know... Are you getting another specialization course?"

"This time it's a… personal matter."

“I understand. You don’t have to tell me anything else, I'm sorry if I was indiscreet. "

"I have no problem in telling you. It's just that sometimes humans have a hard time understanding what I intend to do. Not that I'm presuming anything about you. "

Dean shook his head, smiling. He wasn’t offended. He knew how the difficult the relationship between the members of his two races was sometimes.

Cas'tiel continued:

"Kolinahr is a process that aims at pure Logic, at the complete elimination of emotions. That's why I’m taking my leave. A stay of about two years in Vulcan is the least I can expect. "

Dean blinked, reflecting on the fact. He could imagine that sometimes it would be good not to be a slave to emotions, but to eradicate them altogether? Well, Cas'tiel was a Vulcan, that should be the highest goal for one of them. As a human, however, he couldn’t understand that. How would a person live with no joy, anger, anguish, sadness, pleasure, pain? They were all part of his being.

"Yes, it is difficult for humans to conceive a life without emotions. They are part of us and we embrace them with passion. What leads you to want to aspire to that goal? "

"It is the greatest honor, among my peers, to attain it. A Vulcan that reaches the Kolinahr is a Vulcan in his highest state. However, it is one of the deepest experiences a Vulcan can have. I have been told that it would make me more humble and compassionate. This is what I aspire to, though I am not sure that I will be able to do so. "

"What led the Vulcans to such an appreciation of logic, Cas'tiel? Why such rejection of emotion? If I may ask... "

"In the early days, the Vulcans were extremely passionate, victims of their exacerbated emotions. _'Hot as Vulcan'_ is an expression that does not just refer to climate issues, Dean. The state of submission to unbridled emotions almost brought Vulcan society to extinction. Surak, the greatest of our philosophers and considered the founder of modern society, advocated Logic rather than emotions should guide us in everyday life, allowing our culture to flourish. "

"I realize that life guided by logic can be... _quieter_? I don’t know if this is the right word. But I can’t think of  everyday life without experiencing emotions ... A life without joy, without pleasure... seems discouraging to me. That's my opinion, I’m sorry. "

"There is no reason to apologize, Dean. It's a matter of point of view and I cannot question yours. We think differently on this subject. Logic dictates that we respect each other's point of view and move forward in harmony. "

"And now I can agree with Logic..." Dean laughed. "Maybe there's a little Vulcan in me too? Nah! "

Dean hoped Cas'tiel would at least smile at his attempt to joke, but obviously smiling was illogical. Or maybe the joke was. Or maybe it was not funny at all.

The unusual eyes, however, continued to stare at him, and he felt, for a moment, as an object of study, a microbe on a microscope slide. The discomfort was real and he tried to divert the subject to the question at hand, the cadets out there.

When he went to bed, that gaze stayed with him. It took him a long time to fall asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Dean decided not to expose himself to any situation that could lead him to be the target of some of those focused stares - 'laser' was what he called it inside his head. Cas'tiel, with his cold and distant attitude, affected him more than he could understand. If there was any way of approaching him, he would do so, but knowing what he now knew about how he longed to attain a state of pure logic, he didn’t think it possible.

His attraction to men was as common to him as to women, and in the world of the twenty-third century the relations between beings were admitted more naturally, at least on Earth and its colonies. The time when homosexuality had been considered a crime could not be further apart, being that time considered barbaric.

But at night, as he lay down, each day the image of the Vulcan grew stronger in his mind, whether the facial expressions, whose minimal variation intrigued him or the athletic body that aroused his desire. Sometimes he lay in such a state of excitement because of Cas'tiel's closeness that he could only indulge in solitary activities to ease his discomfort. The fact that he seemed unattainable must have been the ingredient Dean couldn't resist.

 

The routine was the same for the second consecutive week: breakfast, morning observation, exercise break and lunch; more observation throughout the afternoon, which was when the greater activity was concentrated among the students; dinner and after the last notes, some moments of relaxation. Dean spent them watching movies or reading while Cas'tiel devoted himself to the silent study of Surak's work.

One of those nights Dean felt particularly bored. Looking at the Vulcan sitting at the table, almost motionless, for the tenth day in a row made him want to scream. Or kiss him ferociously, but that was another story.

He went to the bedroom and came back with a deck of cards in his hands. He spread them out in front of him, in a lazy game of solitaire. After a few minutes, he looked up to find Cas'tiel entertained in his movements. He smiled and proposed:

"How about a poker game?" In other circumstances he would have proposed strip poker, but that was not the case.

"Could you teach me the rules, please? I've never had a chance to learn. "

Dean was a instructor known for his objectivity and patience and Cas'tiel was a good apprentice. Soon they were able to start a game.

The human handed out the cards, and both exchanged the necessary cards. Since they didn’t use money, Dean suggested betting his last bag of gummy bears. Cas'tiel seemed intrigued by the idea, while Dean distributed them equally in two heaps on the table.

Before long the pile of bears in front of the Vulcan contained almost all those that had been wagered - Dean had consumed two of them in his state of irritability caused by the result of the game - for he won all the rounds. It was impossible for Dean to win when Cas'tiel facial expression revealed nothing.

Placing the face-down cards neatly, he considered the tournament closed. With his long fingers he took one of the treats and brought it to his mouth. Dean, though sulky, could not take his eyes off, first of the beautiful hand and then the lips that enveloped the candy. He swallowed hard, as he studied a microscopic lift in Cas’tiel right eyebrow. As he soon had another one, Dean noted in his _'Vulcan facial expressions mental dictionary’_ that the gesture meant 'approval'.

He offered them also to Dean, who accepted with pleasure. He wouldn’t have access to more gummy bears until they returned to the ship, the local replicator unable to do so. The remaining candy was put back into the plastic bag and left on the table for ‘later consumption’, as its new owner had very clearly explained.

Well, no boredom tonight, Dean thought. It had been an interesting experience.

On the eighteenth day Dean began to notice subtle changes in the routine they had imposed on themselves. He sat down first in front of the screen that morning, and there was no sign of Cas'tiel, the door of his bedroom still closed.

A few minutes later the Vulcan opened the door and Dean could swear he saw a brief expression of frustration in that normally impassive face.

The rest of the day went by as usual and Dean almost forgot what had happened in the morning when he saw Cas'tiel order the replicator for a much more lavish meal than he had ever had there, always the embodiment of frugality.

Dean made no comment. He must be hungry. Hungrier than usual, that was all.

The next day, a strange, intense smell awakened him. That was new. He got up and opened the door, noting that a thin curtain of smoke was coming out from beneath the door of his workmate. That was the source of the smell, no doubt.

Worried, he knocked on the door, calling Cas'tiel’s name.

In the absence of an answer, he repeated the gesture, calling a little louder. Still no answer. Immediate action was required and Dean pressed the button to open the door on the switch on the wall.

Cas'tiel sat in the middle of the room and in front of him, a stone bowl contained some odorous material that was being burned, slowly. He was motionless, in a deep state of meditation or something like that. He wore a short tunic made out of a light material with gold trim on the hem and around the neckline. His muscular legs and arms were exposed. He didn’t react until Dean touched him lightly on the shoulder.

As if awakened from deep sleep, he seemed to find it difficult to recognize Dean, clutching at the front of his pajamas, pressing his neck. A flicker of fury burned in the blue irises.

Coming to his senses, Cas’tiel released Dean, with an almost imperceptible expression of horror on his features.

Dean apologized and left the room, stumbling. Castiel, like all the Vulcans he had known, was endowed with great strength, and the unexpected meeting had made him respond with unusual violence. He sat in his own bed, rubbing his neck, just to see Cas'tiel approaching.

He stopped at the open door and said, in an almost normal tone of voice:

"Forgive me, Dean. You took me out of a meditative state and I'm sorry if I hurt you. This... rarely occurs. Not getting out of that state on my own, I mean. "

"Do you always do... this, this meditation? I've never felt that smell before, so I was surprised. "

"It is the custom of my people before... when we need to find inner strength or clarity of vision. I'm sorry for disturbing you. I hope I did not hurt you. "

"It was nothing, Cas. You just startled me. Do you intend to do this again? Just so I know? "

"N-no." His voice faltered, but he composed himself. "I do not think I need to."

He lowered his head in a silent greeting and returned to his bedroom, which he immediately left again, dressed and ready for his normal activities.

Dean had been more alert ever since. What bothered him most were the tiniest expressions of emotional discontent. But they were there, more and more often.

Cas’tiel’s patience with the Tellarites seemed to end that afternoon. He stood abruptly when one of them said something particularly offensive to Joanna. Dean had only looked at him in, trying not to show how bothered by the act he was.

At night, however, the most intriguing fact occurred. Dean went to the bathroom, and on the way back, he noticed light coming from the laboratory. He stepped forward to see that Cas’tiel had a hypospray in his hand and injected himself with some substance. Soon afterwards he  sighed and dropped the device on the table.

Dean needed to find out what was happening, but he didn’t dare ask. If Cas’tiel was sick, however, he needed to know.

 

Dean couldn’t sleep anymore that night. Concern with his colleague and the continuity of the training dominated his mind.

He got up, got dressed, and then came across another unprecedented vision. Castiel was having breakfast, his back to him. But Dean could glimpse, placed before him, a plate covered in slices of bacon!

Frowning, he approached cautiously:

"Good morning, Cas... How... how's the bacon?"

He stopped walking when he realized that the other one swallowed the morsel he was chewing and jerked the plate and its contents against the view screen. A few moments later, Dean found himself pressed against the wall, secured there by a visibly unstable Cas'tiel. 


	4. Chapter 4

The voice that had always been low, at that moment was a guttural sound:

"Spying on me again, Winchester?"

The young man pressed against the wall by the strong body of the Vulcan almost couldn’t breathe, let alone answer the question. He opened his mouth for air as he watched the change in the eyes of the man who held him there.

The pupils dilated rapidly, almost eliminating the blue of his irises. An audible, rasping inspiration followed as he licked his lower lip. Dean felt totally vulnerable, unable to defend himself. He waited for a violent blow that would put an end to his life.

Instead of hands around his throat, however, he received a mouth against his, in a kiss that felt more like a punishment than an affectionate gesture. It was made of tongue and teeth, an uncontrollable assault. Dean moaned as a bite ripped through his upper lip.

Feeling the iron taste of human blood, Cas'tiel immediately pulled away, releasing Dean, who slid down the wall without the support that had kept him there. The Vulcan pressed the back of his hand against his lips before hurrying out, heading toward the room he occupied.

Splayed on the floor, Dean licked his wounded lip, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.

He heard the metallic clicking of the door being locked from inside.

He got up, still shaken by the unexpected attack and walked to his room, to calm down. No, Cas'tiel was in trouble. He needed to find out what it was.

He approached the door and called him. At last a strangled voice answered him:

"First of all, Dean... Insert on the panel a... code that... would prevent me from opening the door on this side... for... for your safety."

Thinking for a moment, Dean typed a number on the buttons on the panel that was the door lock.

"OK, can we talk now?" No answer. Dean tried again:

"You have a problem, Cas. I need to know what it is and how I can help you. "

"You cannot ... help me, Dean. There is no... nothing to be... done. "

"Explain to me what is happening and I'll find out if there's anything I can do, okay?"

The silence stretched for a few minutes:

"I need to be alone, Dean. I'll be a threat... to anyone .. who gets too close... "

"This is not a viable option, Cas. I'm here with you and I want to help. Explain your problem to me and let's find a solution. "

The sound of something being hurled against the door startled Dean, followed by a phrase shouted at the top of his lungs:

"YOU CANNOT DO ANYTHING! Leave me alone!"

Dean leaned against the cold wall and lowered his head. This situation was unsustainable.

He decided to let Cas calm down a little before he spoke to him again. He could hear muffled sobs as if the Vulcan were crying. And it hurt more than anything else.

The standard procedure on his part should be to contact Starfleet immediately and request the removal of the colleague, since he had acted with violence against him on two occasions and his judgment was clearly compromised. But Dean couldn’t do it. Contrary to all rules and common sense, he resisted the idea. Cas'tiel was suffering. He couldn’t be held responsible for his actions when his behavior was so altered.

He thought it was some disease, and then he consulted the Fleet database for symptoms. There was no known disease that robbed Vulcan's emotional control except for Bendii Syndrome, but it only affected individuals of very advanced age. He searched the archives again, seeking the age of Cas'tiel, for their lives were longer than the lives of humans and Dean could not judge only by appearances.

He sighed, relieved, when he realized that he was almost forty-nine years old and that he was young enough for a Vulcan, not in the age range susceptible to the disease. But the problem remained... If it was not that... what could it be?

He turned off the datapad and headed for the intercom. His best chance at the moment was to contact T'Niv.

Dean waited until she was alone, watching on the large screen of the room, dotted with fragments of bacon. He pressed the button and heard the sound attract her attention.

She took the device in her hands and answered, waiting for the message from one of her teammates. A small raise of eyebrows showed Dean that she was surprised to be contacted by him.

"Good morning, Cadet T'Niv."

"Good morning, Commander Winchester. Is there some problem?"

"Yes, T'Niv, we have a problem. I am counting on your discretion in this matter. "

He briefly reported on what had happened, including the kiss, but omitting that he had been injured. She didn’t need to know that.

"I fear, Commander, that may be the manifestation of Pon Farr. Are you aware of Commander Cas’tiel chronological age? "

"He's about to turn forty-nine."

"Yes, it's Pon Farr, no doubt," she said, her voice failing for a second.

"Is his condition serious? Is there anything you can do? He is clearly suffering. "

"Vulcans… every seven years of their lives, go through a physical process, an evolutionary process. It's a question of sexual maturity. "

"Sexual?" That would explain the kiss.

"Yes. It is a natural occurrence in Vulcan life, but there are ways to deal with it without putting others at risk, as the loss of emotional control and violence are part of the process. Hormones make us enter into a mating process. Knowing the closeness of it there are ways to prevent or mitigate it. But as Commander Cas'tiel has already begun to exhibit the symptoms, there is nothing more that can be done except to let the process run its course. "

"How?"

The young woman said nothing, as if reflecting on the next answer:

"He must mate in the next few days. I am the logical choice, being the only native of our planet here. I volunteer, Commander."

"Does he need to mate? What if that... doesn’t happen? "

"It's a very serious process," she told him. “If he does not mate, he may die. "

Dean couldn’t believe it. If Cas'tiel knew that his Pon Farr was coming, why did he volunteer for training? It didn’t make sense. It was not logical.

"T'Niv, I need to talk to him and suggest your solution. Please keep this conversation between us. I'll come back, please wait. "

"I will not speak on the matter with anyone, it is a Vulcan matter and should not be shared with ousiders. I’m sorry you are exposed to it, sir. "

"See you soon, then."

Dean put the communicator on the table and stood up. Next to the sealed door of the Vulcan's dormitory he called his name.

A slightly more controlled response came from within:

"Yes, Dean... What... do you want?"

"Cas, I know what's happening to you is... Pon Farr. T'Niv explained everything to me."

"You... did she tell you that you need to... stay away from me?"

"No, but she told me what will happen if you don’t mate."

"This does not ... matter, Dean. You need to stay... away... do you understand? Away!" He was starting to lose control again and this was noticeable in his voice.

"T'Niv... she..." Dean hesitated to convey that information, but it was necessary: "... she volunteered... to help you."

"NO!" Came the answer from inside, along with the sound of something crashing against the wall. "T'Niv… no... she can’t!" He said, his voice tense.

"She said it's a Vulcan matter and that she ..."

"No, Dean... there's another aspect of which... she did not tell you." Control was getting harder and harder, but she still tried to explain it. "She... is at a... fertile age... No... If there is... any offspring... it will be... an indissoluble union..."

"Does she know that?" Dean asked in disbelief.

"We all know about... this implication, Dean," he said hoarsely. "I cannot ... accept her... offer. T'Niv is young... I cannot... "

"But she told me you could die if you don’t mate… Is it true? "

"It's one of... possibilities," he coughed. "It's ... likely."

"But... this is not an option, Cas! There must be another way!"

"There is... nothing to do but wait for the outcome. Thank... her... I feel honored... but her offer... will not be accepted. "

"Cas'tiel, it's the logical choice! She's willing to do it so you can live. "

"No, Dean! The answer is no!"

Dean's fist punched the wall in an defeated attitude. He felt useless!

Suddenly an idea popped into his mind. He blinked quickly, trying to put it into words.

"Cas... what if... you mate... with someone... from some other planet?"

"Do not think about proposing... this... to... any other cadets, Dean... I forbid it."

"I will not speak to any of them, I promise."

It had never been Dean’s intention. He walked to his own room and undressed.


	5. Chapter 5

Dean needed to remain calm. He came to a decision, but he knew that it involved risks. Cas'tiel's earlier violence and his overwhelming strength were points of concern, but he tried to believe that acting kindly and malleable would be enough. He was the ideal candidate: he was an adult, able to accept the implications of what he was about to do. Being a man and not a Vulcan, there would be no question of an indissoluble union.

He went to the bathroom and started the sonic shower. He washed slowly, trying to calm the start in his chest. He needed to be ready if he wanted to prevent any serious damage.

With skillful but trembling fingers, he began to prepare himself for the act that would follow. He had fantasized about it, but not that way.

When he left the bathroom he wore a gray, soft bath robe. Bare feet made no noise in the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

His fingers slid over the buttons, canceling the previous programming and disabling the lock. He pressed the green button that opened the door.

With a hissing sound, the door slid into the wall. Dean found himself standing in the doorway, the almost total darkness inside the room broken only by the light entering the room where he was standing.

Several objects were broken, the pieces scattered on the floor. Cas'tiel was lying on his bed, seeming unconscious. He had taken off his jacket and shirt and his hair was disheveled, as if he had run his fingers through them many times.

With one last deep breath, Dean reached down and crouched beside the bed, his hand moving toward the Vulcan's restless face.

"Cas ..." he whispered, his hand caressing the face that no longer looked carved in stone.

Cas'tiel opened his eyes and the fury Dean had seen before was back. He pushed Dean away from him.

"I told you... to stay away... Dean! Away!"

"No, Cas, I can’t stay away when you need me" he said, getting up. Cas'tiel stood and stared at him, his breath racing, as if he were a trapped animal.

"Dean... get out of here... while you can... Please," he said in an anguished murmur.

The human approached slowly. As he was able to feel the breath on his face he stopped. He raised a hand in a conciliatory gesture. With it, he touched Cas’tiel’s face again, who emited a desperate sound, tilting his head toward the heat.

Dean’s lips moved slowly, brushing them lightly against the half-open mouth so that Cas'tiel knew what he was doing there. The Vulcan hesitated for a moment, but then, as if a dam had broken, he enveloped Dean with his arms and kissed him passionately.

'Hot as Vulcan' Dean recalled. The man in his arms burned, as if suffering from a soaring fever, as if his blood boiled beneath his sweaty skin.

After leaving Cas'tiel on his bed, asleep, Dean had picked up the clothes scattered on the floor and closed the door. The temperature of Cas’ body had dropped enough to let Dean know the worst had passed.

Wrapped in his robe, he walked slowly to his room, where he sat down pensively. That would be an experience hard to forget. But he thought he had done what was right, and he felt not diminished. On the contrary, his actions had saved a life and guaranteed the continuity of his mission. He was mature enough to live with it. He thought Cas'tiel would be satisfied with how he had dealt with the matter logically and rationally. It was not quite like that, in his heart, but the Vulcan did not need to know.

 

A few hours passed before Dean heard Cas'tiel's door open. He didn’t turn around, continuing with the records he was making on the datapad.

A short time later, the colleague came to stand next to him, dressed neatly in his uniform, his posture as rigid as usual, his hands clasped behind his back. Cas’ face, however, betrayed some embarrassment to Dean's trained eyes.

Trying to break the ice, he said casually,

"Hello, Cas."

"Commander Winchester, I need to apologize."

"No, Cas, it's not necessary. You had a problem, it's solved" he said, trying to keep his voice calm and firm.

At the scrutiny of those impassive eyes, Dean felt more naked than he had been before. But he wasn’t intimidated. He stood and commented, as if nothing different had happened in their routine:

"The Tellarites are divided. Naklir accepted the proposal of T'Niv and Jo, joining his research group. Gilavg was infuriated and took Suhiiv with him. The others remained and joined Naklir, after some discussion. "

"Comand-"

"Nothing changed, Cas. Keep calling me Dean. We have a job to do. What happened, it is past, I consider a problem solved. For my part, it will remain between us. I told T'Niv that I wouldn’t say anything to anyone. It is up to us to be mature and logical and to continue as we were before. "

With the word "logic" being used to defend his point of view, Dean had disarmed his colleague, who could only conclude by saying:

"Thank you, Dean."

The human smiled the way he always did and finished drinking his coffee.

"The cadets' morning activities are archived for you to watch. Well, I've finished my notes. I'm going to work out a little. "

When he returned to the room later, he found Cas'tiel entertained with the recording he was watching and his notes. His features had regained their usual placidness, his gestures measured as one might expect.

Now it was Dean’s turn to keep his own emotions under control.

The remaining days of their isolation in Talamir followed the routine established at the beginning. Dean tried to keep his feelings in check and to continue his professional relationship with Cas’tiel, who showed no change in behavior since the quick conversation they had.

Neither of them had talked about the subject, continuing their work unhindered until the end of the stay.

The day they entered the shuttle, ready to pick up the cadets and head for orbit, where the USS Kansas was waiting for them, Cas'tiel, however, broke the agreement between them and handed him a data crystal.

Dean, sitting in the driver's seat, frowned and asked what it was about. Cas'tiel, with a tiny tilt of his head, had answered:

"I will never be able to thank you enough for what happened on this mission, Dean. However, I would like you to know the facts, if it is of your will. "

Dean had shook his head and put the crystal in his pocket, pretending to be too involved with the takeoff procedures to pay full attention to that fact which, by all accounts, should already be forgotten.

Disembarking in the interstellar ship that would take them back, he transferred the crystal from his pocket to the suitcase and left it there.

The farewell of the cadets and colleague was formal, as one would expect. They separated and went to their lodgings, after a month of forced coexistence on a distant planet.

Dean entered the empty apartment and sighed. Back to normal, to classes, to friends, and to one night stands.

In his mind a relationship, as short-lived as the others, but somehow more significant, stood out.

Remembering the crystal at the bottom of his bag, he went to pick it up and sat down on the comfortable couch near the window to read it. He inserted it into the datapad and Cas'tiel's voice came from the handset, instead of a written text.

The deep tone and monotonous intonation carried him to that day again, in which Cas'tiel had asked him, for the last time, to turn away. The contrast was striking between what he had heard then and what he heard at that moment:

_"Commander Winchester... Dean. I feel I owe you some explanations, though you did not want to discuss it for the rest of our stay in Talamir. I understand that any action on your part may have resulted from your training as a Starfleet officer, for you were acting to ensure the maintenance of another officer's life in an emergency. I also understand that such action was an act of detachment, an act that is beyond duty, taking into consideration the moral issues that the situation raises, especially in the face of your people’s customs. "_

_"I must first clarify that I would never expose myself to such isolation if I were aware that something like this would occur. Throughout my adult life, especially after I became a Starfleet officer and an instructor at the Academy, it has been my concern to prevent the natural Vulcan cycle Pon Farr from ever manifesting. Intake of hormonal inhibitors has been a standard procedure. I stress that by volunteering for training in Talamir, this procedure was being maintained, which would guarantee the absence of the process, even when the time of the completion of another cycle of seven years approached._

_"By subsequently researching in the medical database, I discovered that some of the inoculations we had to undergo prior to training may have interfered with the inhibitors' action, precipitating the cycle, exposing you to the unpleasant results of it and what led you to make decisions to solve the problem. "_

_"I know that other measures could have been taken and that I failed to act when there was still time, forcing you to act. I take full responsibility for that. "_

_"Logic dictates that I perceive this incident as closed and that it should be a warning to other similar situations. I assure you that I will take measures so that no other officer or individual is ever exposed to the same issue, or that I myself fail to follow Starfleet protocol. "_

_"So I have to thank you again. I understand that I am alive for your intervention and this is a precious gift. I will not forget that. Finally, I end this message with the traditional Vulcan greeting, 'Live long and prosper'. "_

Dean set the device on the coffee table and leaned back, reflecting on the message. His mind and heart were in conflict. As his mind revolved the medical terms and ethical procedures involved, his emotions focused on another question: that Cas'tiel was taking inhibitors to avoid Pon Farr. And he had done it all his adult life.

His chest tightened at the thought that this might have been the Vulcan's first sexual experience. And that was dictated by biological needs, without the possibility of any rational intervention on his part. For a race that prized logic to its highest degree, being exposed to the animalistic desires of its nature should be a humiliating situation.

He allowed himself to remember, for a moment, how Cas’ actions had been driven by instinct; abrupt, rude gestures. He remembered how he had been lifted off the floor and pressed against the wall, roughly, his strong hands gripping Dean’s thighs, his fingers marking the skin with bruises that took days to disappear completely.

On the other hand, he couldn’t forget the brief moment when Cas'tiel's eyes had softened, the boiling desire forgotten, the imperious rusticity paused. After that, the movements had been softer, any trace of excessive force or violence, gone. Dean wondered if the Vulcan could remember the control, the restraint he had applied to himself in spite of the relentless instinct that dominated him. Perhaps he wasn’t aware of the degree of control of his rational mind over the issues imposed by his body. He didn’t know how much of that experience Cas'tiel could remember.

He smiled sadly as he remembered that despite everything, it had allowed him to live a fantasy, of which he was now deeply ashamed. He felt empty, despite the realization that through his actions a life had been preserved.

 

Upon returning to work, after a well-deserved two-week break, he learned that Cas'tiel had been there the day before, delivering his reports, and that he had requested a leave of absence. Kolinahr, Dean thought, suddenly feeling sad. The Vulcan would soon no longer be the man he knew, Logic supplanting everything else.


	6. Chapter 6

In spite of what Dean had imagined at the time, the experience he had lived in Talamir, having spent about eighteen months already, didn't leave his memory. There were days when he woke up in sweating, his dreams too vivid.

He could feel the warm hands of Cas'tiel on his skin. The touches that should be just the closure of a biological cycle for the partner in his memory were much more than mere expressions of physical desire. He saw clearly the eyes of a deep, unusual blue, in that moment they had been one.

The more time passed, the more Dean felt the absence of the Vulcan. Perhaps it was his mind playing with him. He had never been involved with anyone long enough to develop any kind of attachment, let alone entertain the feelings he was trying to deny day by day to his colleague with whom he had lived for a short time.

He was obliged, then, to remember that Cas'tiel should be in Vulcan, since his leave was still going on. And that when he returned, if he returned, he would probably be a different person, even further away from him and Dean's feelings. Unfortunately, that knowledge didn't save him from the anguish that oppressed him.

Sitting in his office, on one of those days when he was haunted by the inescapable images of the Vulcan Commander, he tried to focus on something more concrete.

He had been accompanying, for some time, the negotiations between the United Federation of  Planets and a planet called Ardana. It was pleading for admission into the confederation of planets and its acceptance had been announced that afternoon.

Dean was eager to hear the news, as there was an isolated region on that planet, a remote valley on the northern continent that would be ideal for the kind of training he promoted with the cadets. It was a region protected by a monastery at the top of a rocky mountain. Few had had the opportunity to see it, the monks too strict to allow the presence of unqualified persons according to their standards. However the reports were impressive and Dean hoped it was possible to have a different kind of access to it, now that they were part of the institution which mantained the Starfleet and its Academy.

That brought him new motivation. Rather than thinking about something he could never have, he needed to focus on the present, plan ahead, find new challenges.

He got up and left the room, determined to speak to the general director of the Fleet Academy about that matter.

 

Ardana was an impressive sight. From the ship that had brought him here, Dean could see why it was also called Earth 2. The similitude with the planet where the Federation headquarters were was impressive.

He was left in the space-port of the city of Mastrym, in the province of Nelapp. Dean had a meeting with the governor of that province to negotiate the terms of his stay in the region as Starfleet envoy for academic affairs.

He stayed at a simple inn, in complete harmony with the surrounding landscape. The town was small and the houses scattered, with woods and fields among them.

He left his luggage in his room, and as he had time before the meeting, he decided to take a little walk. As always, in these moments of solitude, his mind was taken back to the moments he had with Cas'tiel. He would appreciate, he was sure, the placidity of that place. He shook his head, as if this gesture could shake the thought away for good.

He sat at the edge of a lake and enjoyed the towering bluish mountains that surrounded him. Beyond them was the Valley of Dragost, the place that he wanted to see before he could bring his cadets.

At the top of the highest one, he could glimpse the white buildings of the monastery. He couldn't even imagine how people got there before technology. The view must beautiful.

He heard a beep from his communicator that it was time to go, his meeting with the local dignitary scheduled for within the hour.

With one last glance at the mountains he couldn't help but sigh at the thought that the blue tone reminded him of someone special.

The governor was very kind and brokered his contact with the monastery so he could talk to his administrators. He informed him, however, that the monks who lived there followed a very rigid doctrine and that not all suitors were admitted into the monastery and into the valley beyond.

If he passed the test that was proposed to him, he could stay for a few days, so Dean should bring  a bag that contained only a few belongings.

Landing on the grass, not too close to the monastery, as he had been instructed, Dean disembarked and walked to the building, watching several of the monks in their blue robes, cloaked, scattered all around, some alone and some in pairs. They didn't show that they had noticed their presence, focused on the activities they were engaged in. Dean thought they might pray or meditate, the couples discussing some religious matter.

He was immediately taken to the master's room. He was a middle-aged man, native to that planet, and therefore his forehead had a different conformation, being taller and covered by a pattern of spots reminiscent of a leopard. He wore the same blue cloak, but his hood fell into folds over his broad shoulders.

"Commander Winchester, I need to explain a few things to you before you enter the Dragost valley. It is a sacred area for us monks of the Order of Zostatok. Only those initiated into our order have set their feet in it for hundreds of years. Since you are not a monk, you will have to undergo a purification ritual before you can walk in our valley. "

"A purification ritual?"

"Yes, first you shall bathe in our holy fountain, which shall wash the impressions of the outside world. After that, two days of fasting and silence, to purge your interior. On the third day, wearing the white cloak of the novices you will be taken to the entrance of the valley, accompanied by three monks, chosen for their dedication.

Dean nodded his agreement to the terms imposed.

He was immediately taken to a chamber that had been dug in the hard rock of the mountain. There, a crystal fountain bubbled. The atmosphere was cool and the silence was only broken by the gentle noise of the water. Two monks, their faces hidden by the hoods, helped him undress so he could dive into the small tank fed by the fountain. The master of the order had instructed him to dive completely and let the water wash away any impurity brought in from the outside world. He held his breath and sank completely, staying under the icy water for a few moments.

As he emerged, taking a deep breath, a hand came out to help him out. Water flowed from his body to the cold stone at his feet. Dean realized that it was not as crystal clear as it had been before it had entered it, greenish glints whirling in its center, soon to disappear completely.

A towel was put around him, and then a white robe was offered to him as his only garment. As one of the monks closed the buttons of the robe over his chest, the other pulled the hood over his head, also hiding his face. Dean assumed a posture of humility and allowed himself to be led into the room where he would remain for the next two days in complete solitude.

When dawn broke on the third day, Dean was awakened by a gentle touch. A monk had brought him a change of clothes, which consisted of loose trousers of thick cloth, a slightly lighter robe and boots, and another white cloak similar to the one he'd been wearing for the past two days.

Dean had time to think about his life, without the distractions he was accustomed to. He had not fed, but the discomfort of hunger was minimal compared to the sadness he felt when he imagined that Cas'tiel was also in a monastery like that on a planet on the other side of the galaxy, devoting himself to the study of a doctrine which he admired and that would keep them apart forever.

Now that the day had come, he felt the sadness drain away as the sunshine touched his face. Perhaps this was what the master had told him: to purge the impurities from within. He didn't feel sad anymore for the Vulcan who was far away, but he was glad to have had the opportunity to meet him, enriched by the experiences they had shared. That change of perspective made him feel free.

He was offered an infusion of herbs sweetened with honey to break the fast.

The three monks assigned to the task indicated that they should follow them, the faces always covered by the hoods of the blue robes. He walked through the monastery walls, following a path of stones, which led them to a cave. The opening was small and he had to crawl to get behind those who were his guides on that journey.

The route to reach the valley passed through the mountain, through natural tunnels that stretched for many miles. Each of the monks carried a small lantern with a lilac flame. Dean appreciated every moment of the way, the caves possessing an indescribable beauty.

At the end of a few hours' walk they could glimpse a source of light that indicated the exit.

Unlike the entrance, the mouth of the cavern on this side was immense and opened into a beautiful valley where a wide stream of fresh water flowed, flanked by tall trees with multicolored leaves. The breeze was perfumed and Dean felt at peace.

The monks sat in the shade and shared with Dean a frugal meal of fruit and nuts. They then fell into a meditative state. The human, enraptured by the unforgettable experiences he had had since he had arrived there, leaned against the trunk of the leafy tree under which they lay and fell asleep.

When he awoke, at nightfall, he was alone. He got up, a little alarmed, until he saw one of the three monks sitting at the mouth of the cave, the lantern lit at his feet.

He approached and the hooded figure told him to sit in front of him.

"Dean... is that your name?"

"Yes, it's my name."

"You brought a great burden on yourself. But now you seem lighter, having left all unnecessary weight on the way, is it right? "

"Yes... I came full of sadness and fear. I feel much better now, for I am free of them. "

"In your mind, an image remains, however. I perceive only a nuance of blue, which, since entering our monastery, you carry within. It resisted the purifying water of the fountain, the silent fast and the darkness of the caves. Even though so much has left you body and mind, the blue remains. "

Dean closed his eyes and the image of Cas'tiel's eyes returned to him, clear as never before. His mouth opened and he heard himself say:

"Yes, blue will remain with me for life."

"If this is what you will carry with you for a lifetime, you can come back here as many times as you like, for you carry _the light_. You are welcome to join us if you want. "

"I am honored to be welcomed by your monastery. Could you explain more about the purpose of your quest? "

"Our pursuit, Dean, is for balance. We always seek the path traced between extremes, the ideal tension that makes the string of the instrument sound without bursting. We seek a way of life that makes us stable when everything around us is unstable. We refute radicalism from extremes. We reject the excessive heat of exacerbated passions and the exclusionary coldness of pure rationality. "

He blinked, realizing who had played each of those two roles in his life. He thought of Cas'tiel and how he had planned to pursue one of those extremes.

He opened his eyes and decided, said:

"I have my duties to fulfill with Starfleet, but I think that as soon as I can I will return here and dedicate myself to walking along this path with you. I am immensely honored that you have offered me this possibility. "

Two lanterns were lit in the night that enveloped them at that moment. The other monks had settled within a few yards of him, one on each side. The one on his right stood up, holding the lantern and lowered his hood, nodding. The monk to his left also stood, took his hand to the edge of the hood, and in a fluid movement revealed his face. And a smile. Above it eyes of perfect blue glittered in his direction.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean was speechless for a few moments as he met Cas'tiel in that totally unexpected way.

The other two monks had entered the cave, starting the way back to the monastery, but Dean couldn't look away from the Vulcan, who was still standing there looking at him.

Rising, unsure, Dean walked the steps that separated him from Cas, only to realize that beyond the smile, a tear had come down his face. The Vulcan inclined his head in a silent greeting.

"Cas ..." he whispered, still incredulous that he had found him there.

"Dean," he replied, his deep voice vibrating in the other's chest, warming him like nothing else could.

"Kolinahr?" That was all he could say.

"It's not my aspiration anymore."

Dean blinked, confused.

"I have been following the path of the Zostatok monks for over a year now. I have discovered that this doctrine is more... consistent with my personal pursuit. "

"Have you been here all this time? I thought you were in Vulcan. "

"I've been there for a few months. To talk to my mother and reflect. I had a lot to think before deciding whether to even commit to the Kolinahr training. "

"You never told me about your family, Cas. I see that we know very little about each other. "

"However, we knew enough to make important decisions... life or death decisions. What I knew about you... and about me too... made me see that I should pursue another goal."

"What you mean? I don't understand..."

Cas'tiel smiled again, looking deep into Dean's eyes in his characteristic manner.

"I realized by coming to know you that our views on life were opposite. Despite a balanced professional life, your personal life leaned heavily on hedonism, abandonment to the passions. Mine, with the same point in common with regard to work, tended to the total negation of the passions. However... when the intrinsic instincts of my race struck me without evasion, it was you... who could keep a clear and rational mind, acting according to logic. "

"I have to confess, Cas... what you call passions..." Dean said, embarrassed, being interrupted by the interlocutor.

"I may have devoted myself to the rational Vulcan discipline all my life, Dean, but I do recognize sexual attraction," he said, grinning again. "I noticed your interest from the beginning, but I thought ignoring it, speaking of my devotion to Logic, I would change your perception. Besides, you never took any action that could change the state of our relationship before the Pon Farr. "

Dean lowered his eyes.

"You made a logical and rational decision, in spite of your personal inclinations, showing me that things didn't need to be seen only in black and white. Maybe if there was a way to find... a gray area, eventually... "

Dean's eyes locked on Cas', waiting for the conclusion of the sentence he had left unfinished.

"... there would be a common territory where we could relate to each other... as equals."

At the words, a soft smile colored Dean's face.

 

In the valley of Dragost it was night. Cas'tiel and Dean had been left behind to talk at last.

Although Dean couldn't deny what had happened between them in Talamir, the weight of those acts seemed diminished in the light of a new understanding.

Cas'tiel led Dean to a lodge a short distance away. It was simple, but it could provide the basic comforts.

"We can stay here for as long as we want. The master, knowing our history, has given us this moment to talk, as long as the result of the purification and pilgrimage to the valley have resulted in inner changes in you. " He smiled at the confirmation that Dean had given to the monk he had led The way there.

"Yes. Internal changes... but I think certain things never change. They are like the North that guides us in our pursuit of... happiness. " Dean said, his face in an open expression. "Did you walk this same path?"

"I've had months to achieve the clarity you got in a few days, Dean. When the monk asked me what I was carrying inside me at the end of the pilgrimage, I was not able to respond with your assertiveness. It took many weeks for me to purge the rational excesses of my mind. However, the third time I was taken into the interior of the mountain and into the valley where we are, the monk perceived a unique response, such as yours. "

"And what did the guide see in your mind, if you can tell me?" He asked curiously.

"Electricity. Sparks. "

Dean looked at him uncertainly. What could that mean?

"And this was the answer that made him finally accepted in the quest for balance?"

"Yes, for each individual the meaning of the mental image is unique, representing the vital principle in which we stand to evolve."

Perceiving the confusion of the human, Cas'tiel motioned him to sit on the thick, matted rug in the middle of the tiny room.

Sitting down in front of him, his hands clasped, his elbows resting on his thighs, he began:

"I feel there's a lot to share with you, Dean. Let me start by talking about my family. I am the only child of Solvok and T'Bek. I am the result of a Pon Farr union of my mother when she was very young. She was just approaching the end of his fourth life cycle. "

That was why he couldn't accept T'Niv's offer, Dean understood now. And also the motivator to take hormonal inhibitors to prevent the natural process that was unwanted for him.

"My parents were colleagues at the Vulcan Academy of Science and in circumstances very similar to those we experienced in Talamir, they came together to calm the physiological needs of Pon Farr. As I was conceived on that occasion, their lives were inextricably united by Vulcan Law. Divorce is not accepted when there are descendants from Pon Farr. It is illogical, but it is a millenarian custom, a reminder of when the process was the guarantee of the continuity of our race and had the legal value of marriage. "

Dean listened quietly, but his eyes showed great interest, which prompted Cas'tiel to continue.

"Solvok had many plans and the union with T'Bek made it impossible to put them into practice. It was not a union desired by either of them, so, by mutual agreement, T'Bek agreed that he would join a deep-space exploration mission. It was his way of allowing him to maintain his individuality and interests when she and I locked him into a situation with no possibility of evolution. In a way, the decision taken by them allowed her to return to her self-improvement, devoting herself to the study of Philosophy. "

"When I returned from Talamir to my childhood home, my mental and physical state were terrible and it was T'Bek who made me see that Kolinahr would not be the way to my inner discovery. She perceived in me conflict where there always seemed to be certainty. He then told me about the monks who live here and their philosophy of life. "

"I reluctantly accepted her suggestion, but a Vulcan union of  minds was what finally made me see that I should try."

Dean had heard of the mind melds of the Vulcans. It was something that had always intrigued him.

"She and I forged a mental link, allowing us to share one another's innermost thoughts and feelings. Never before had my mother proposed this to me, being one of the deepest ties among Vulcans. She had never considered me mature enough. "

"The recent experiences I had in Talamir seemed to be the cause of my inner imbalance, and she, sharing all that I experienced, pointed me this way."

"This... mental connection? Can be shared only between Vulcans or... "

"In exceptional circumstances it may occur between individuals of different species, both parties agreeing."

"Cas, I'd like to try. With you, I mean. Could we... unite our minds this way? There is so much I would like to explain to you, but I feel that I am unable to put into words... "

Cas'tiel paused for a moment and lowered his head thoughtfully. He seemed reluctant.

He looked at Dean again, and with one of those focused glances that had once terrified the young human, he explained:

"So there's no discomfort, Dean, you need not resist. If there's something you do not want to share, let me know, gently, and I will not force you to anything. "

Dean nodded and smiled. He was ready.

Cas'tiel brought his hand closer to Dean's face, his thumb resting on his chin as the index finger touched the area adjacent to his nostril and the other fingers on his forehead. He closed his eyes, depriving Dean momentarily of the vision that had been leading him for so many months.

For Dean, at first, his own thoughts seemed to him like instruments of an orchestra that prepares for the execution of a piece, at the moment in which they are tuned. The cacophony of his thoughts, feelings, memories, and emotions seemed chaotic to him. Gradually he realized what seemed to be another orchestra, composed of different, unknown instruments, beginning to play. The execution had nothing to do with disorder, but it was clearly based on a different style of composition.

Then his own inner orchestra began to play, and the music surprised him, for there was harmony where before there had been only dissonance. Although the two orchestras did not play the same song in unison, the melodies seemed compatible and complementary.

It was beautiful!


	8. Chapter 8

When Dean listened to the notes, he realized that they were thoughts, memories, impressions, feelings, that made up the two melodies, one of each one's life, being executed at the same time, the images intertwining in his mind.

He could see Cas'tiel as a boy, in a city surrounded by reddish mountains, his face receiving the rays of the torrid sun of Vulcan, while his feet trailed a long way on the polished pavement. The faces of T'Bek and Solvok, both serious and reserved, that of the mother conveying understanding and acceptance. His studies at the Academy in Vulcan and then at the Starfleet Academy. The countless trips through various Federation planets and many of the people he had met.

At the same time, Dean opened his mind to Cas'tiel and showed him his childhood in Oberon, the loving mother who had passed away when he was very young, his violent and authoritarian father. He introduced Sam, the brother who lived in Altair, for whom he felt a profound love. Not even one compartment of his mind would remain hidden from the gentle peering of Cas'tiel's mind.

There was a moment, then, when the two different melodies began to change, playing the same sequence of notes. Dean realized that it was the moments they had lived together in Talamir. In a crescendo, the notes were intensifying, until culminating with a long and grave chord.

Dean was instantly aware of how Cas'tiel and himself saw in their minds the incident of Pon Farr. Even if there was fear, aversion, revolt, caution and shame mixed in that memory, other emotions also comprised it: acceptance, relief, peace. A sensory explosion dominated the landscape for a few fractions of a second. Then the memory of the blue eyes, in the climatic moment, that persisted in Dean's mind, made itself known and dominated their thinking.

Cas'tiel's hand abruptly moved away from the human's face, ending the merger.

For a moment Dean felt confused, brought unexpectedly back to the humble cabin in the valley of Dragost in Ardana.

Cas'tiel stood motionless before him, eyes closed, the hand that had touched Dean's face close to his own chest.

Dean felt very lonely. Cold. He wanted the warmth of Cas'tiel's arms, but he dared not touch him.

The Vulcan then opened his eyes and, standing quickly, apologized and left, toward the darkness outside.

 

Dean took a few minutes to recover. The link had been cut very abruptly.

When he was centered enough to go after Cas'tiel he could not find him, the night too dark to know where he had gone.

He returned to the lodge and drank some water. He sat down again, leaning against the wall. He thought of awaiting the return of the Vulcan, despite the fatigue of the day's activities. But... if he wouldn't come back?

When morning came Dean woke up from a troubled sleep. Sitting down on the simple bed, he ran his fingers through his hair, remembering the unique melody they had composed in their minds. The blue remained and, if possible, glowed with even greater intensity in his mind.

He left the hut and his bare feet touched the morning dew on the grass. He followed the path they had previously taken, until he could glimpse a figure sitting at the entrance to the cave.

Cas'tiel was there, in the same meditative stance that Dean had once encountered him. Bathed in the golden light of dawn, he resembled a metal-fused statue.

Dean hesitated to move closer. The breakup of contact between them had been too abrupt. He stood close to the trees, listening to his own heart pounding in his chest.

He watched as Cas' finally opened his eyes and relaxed his body. He stretched and stood, his face turned toward the sun that shone among the bluish peaks.

He turned toward Dean, who shivered at the intensity of his gaze, even at that distance.

As he took a step toward him, the human could not move. It seemed rooted in that place. Cas'tiel approached slowly, his face  betraying no emotion.

Cas stood in front of Dean and  nodded to him. He lifted one of his hands and placed it in the familiar position, next to Dean's face, and with his eyes he asked for permission. Dean nodded, closing his eyes to feel the Vulcan's fingers again on his face.

There was a single melody this time, because instead of investigating Dean's thoughts, Cas'tiel was showing him only what was in his mind.

He saw him in Vulcan, with his mother, and then disembarking at Ardana. He accompanied him as he made the journey into the mountain three times.

Finally the guide monk had asked the conclusive question, and Cas'tiel had opened his eyes, aware of a mental picture he couldn't understand. A pattern of electrical impulses filled his mind and must have been there for some time. He realized that logic was what had by then prevented him from becoming aware of that image, which would be the pillar of his vital evolution from then on. For months after that experience the inner pilgrimage would continue, trying to find the source of the mental image. He had spent many hours meditating there in that hut without, however, being able to reach a conclusion.

Dean's mind was taken, then, by the image of himself, the moment he had disembarked from the small ship, by the monastery.

He saw himself naked, plunging into the crystalline font of purification. He saw the hooded monk's fingers closing the robe to his chest. He observed, from another point of view, his own pilgrimage through the dark caves until the end with the master and the revelation of Castiel.

As if a whirlwind took on the surface of a placid lake, the images mingled and in its place appeared a composition of sinuous colors and lines... In its place, gradually, lightning began to appear in a stormy sky; electrical impulses, more and more complex and close. In a short time, neurons revealed themselves, being the path through which the impulses traveled. An increasingly distant picture began to show itself, moving away from the neurons and converting them into clusters, into curves in a gray matter, finally revealing the image of the electricity from a pulsating brain.

Dean watched, fascinated, the complexity of those images, until, moving away a little more, Cas'tiel's mind showed... Dean's face again.

That... was his own brain!

This was the mental pattern Cas'tiel had seen and had not been able to identify or consciously relate to anything he had ever known.

Dean opened his eyes, to find the face of the Vulcan, the emotions clearly visible in his features. Shock. Relief. Fear. Doubt.

He raised his own hand and, in a simulacrum of the alien gesture, touched Cas' face as well.

As on another occasion, the face sought warmth in his palm and the blue eyes closed, allowing a tear to escape.

Running his thumb over the damp trail, Dean called out to him softly,

"Cas'tiel..."

An unsure smile flashed across the Vulcan's face, and as he opened his eyes, he found Dean's welcoming vision, radiating all the feelings he had for the Vulcan.

Dean wrapped his arms around him, bringing the now malleable Cas'tiel's body closer.


	9. Chapter 9

Words completely dispensable, they walked side by side back to the cabin. Their fingers had intertwined, and both were reluctant to let the other pull away.

Dean basked in the warmth of the Vulcan as he pulled him into bed. Cas'tiel, relieved of the imperative hormonal burden, felt free to expose in gestures the immense feeling that had been born within him by Dean's presence.

The Vulcans were known for their rationality, but this didn't mean that they were immune to feelings. Feelings lived within the individuals, kept under control by the fetters of logic, rarely finding the possibility of expression. Cas'tiel knew his mother had always loved him. And through the mind meld, he had the confirmation that Dean did too.

After the initial impact of the realization that he himself had reciprocated Dean's love and that in his life that was the cornerstone of growth, he had accepted the path that lay before him.

They stayed there for a long time, embraced. Cas'tiel's head resting on Dean's chest was reassuring, and they fell asleep, resting together for the first time, on a journey that had been much longer and more difficult than the rocky path they had taken through the caves.

Dean woke with a gentle caress on his face, the long fingers he had once admired drawing patterns on the freckles that covered his cheekbones and nose. He smiled at the gentleness of the touch, as if he were too precious to be touched.

But Cas'tiel needed to know that this and other touches were welcome. He inclined his head, gently catching the Vulcan's soft lips. One hand came up the length of his neck and caressed his pointed ear. A shiver ran through the body of the Vulcan, revealing to Dean that they were very sensitive and the touch was much appreciated.

Dean's mouth left Cas'tiel's lips and his tongue traced the outline of the auricle, one of his earliest fantasies. He had imagined that many times, but in a different context. So, as he had the opportunity to experience at that moment, it seemed to him much more significant and pleasurable.

An unheard groan left the Vulcan's lips. Dean remembered that he had little experience. Dean had been his first, but the conditions in which everything had happened had been far from ideal.

He took one of Cas'tiel's hands and placed it on his chest, so that he could feel his heart beating rapidly. The Vulcan half opened his eyes and the blue carried Dean back to the truth he had discovered the day before - Cas'tiel was the one who would accompany him for the rest of his days. The confirmation that the Vulcan felt the same way, that he had in the last mental contact, warmed him.

Cas'tiel, emulating the gesture, took Dean's free hand, placing it on his ribs, below the lungs, on the right side. It was where his heart was, the physiology of both races different, but not incompatible. The beating was extremely fast and Dean jumped. Cas'tiel smiled again, reassuring him. His heart would normally beat at a much higher frequency than that of humans.

The Vulcan inclined his head and it was his turn to start the kiss. Dean moved slowly, causing Cas'tiel's hand to go beneath the soft fabric of his robe, touching his abdomen. The fiery touch made him sigh, and Cas'tiel felt an unexpected pleasure at knowing he could do that to Dean.

Piece by piece, the clothes were removed, in slow gestures. There was no hurry or urgency, what happened between them spontaneous and free, dictated only by their will and feelings, sharpened by the experience they had in the previous hours.

When the two of them had no barrier between them, since the mental impediments had already fallen for some time, Dean put himself in a submissive posture, thinking of the previous experience they had had.

Cas'tiel, however, wanted to live it in a completely different way. Knowing that Dean was the most experienced, he allowed himself to be guided, becoming malleable in the skillful hands. Dean took his time to love him with sensuality and delicacy.

When the ecstasy invaded them, it was accompanied by sweet words and gentle touches, sealing the fate of the two lovers.


	10. Chapter 10

Cas'tiel sat on the bed, leaning against the wall, looking with undisguised affection at the sleeping man lying on his stomach. They had been in the company of each other all afternoon and he couldn't have enough. He now realized that Vulcan logic could never made him feel that way.

When Dean moved, looking for him, Cas'tiel felt unique. That strong, intelligent, gentle man sought his companionship and gave himself to him freely, body and soul. He could only reciprocate trying to be for him the same refuge amid the vicissitudes of life.

When green eyes stared at the blue ones, a warm smile appeared on the freckled face.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hi, Cas..." he replied, leaning on one elbow and wrapping a hand around Cas' neck to bring his lips closer to his own.

It was tempting to stay there longer, letting Dean's affectionate warmth sink in, but they had a journey to finish.

"When you came to Ardana, you did not imagine things would be like this, did you?"

"No, I came looking for a place to bring my students and I found... so much more. I can tell you it was a very nice surprise" he said with a smile as he ran his fingers over the Vulcan's muscular thigh, but he thought of something far greater than the physical aspect of their relationship.

"Dean... we have to talk... what will we do now?"

"If you want to stay here, completing your studies, I understand. I intend to return one day to complete mine as well, but at the moment I must return to San Francisco. The Dragost Valley is not exactly the place I expected..."

"Would you... mind if I came back with you?" Cas'tiel asked, an anxious look on his face.

"Would I mind? That would please me. "

Dean pulled him to lie down again, resting his chin on his flat stomach. An idea had been on his mind for some time now:

"Cas? Have you ever imagined... if I were Vulcan... what would happen after the Pon Farr? Could we have made it this far? And if we were both Vulcan, logical and cold, could we deal with everything that happened otherwise? "

"As I see, Dean... We are not people who fit easily into the demands of our societies. Our meeting... has unleashed yet other changes within us... I admire you as human, but I cannot help wishing you were Vulcan, sometimes... "

"Why?" Dean asked simply.

"The Pon Farr was the turning point in our personal histories, but the mind meld is what sealed our... compromise, if I can call what is between us like that. You and I... " he began and stopped, suddenly uncertain as to what he would say would be received by Dean.

"You and I...?"

"If we presented ourselves before the Priestess of the High Council on Mount Seleya in Vulcan, we could be considered... married," he said, lowering his eyes. It was not a logical attitude, but he had already left that way, feelings interfering in his judgment.

"Married?" Dean asked, his green eyes sparkling in the dimness of the room.

"Yes, I understand that this is a very serious commitment and that you may not ..."

Dean had never really considered the idea of marrying someone but after his interest in pursuing a more balanced lifestyle this seemed a possibility now. And being Cas'tiel the companion who would accompany him on that road, there seemed no room for doubt:

"The idea of being married to you, Cas... I like it very much. I guess I've never wanted anything as much as this, even though I've never considered the idea before today. What we have is something... far greater than the Pon Farr, than our personal pursuits. It's a matter of feeling, Cas... What I feel for you... I've never felt before, for anyone. "

Castiel touched the face that looked at him with such admiration. He felt filled with light, a heat even more scorching than his vulcan nature emerging from his core. He pulled Dean against him, molding his lips to his, wanting to express what he felt.

When they parted, panting, Dean let his happiness manifest itself in a light, humorous tone that Cas had learned to appreciate, one of the most striking features of his human personality:

"When's the next transport to Vulcan, Cas? I believe we have an appointment on Mount Seleya... "

Cas'tiel laughed, the sound still strange in his ears, after so long suppressing joy out of his existence. Dean had opened this and many other doors for him... He wished he could do the same for him as long as they lived.

"Logical?" Dean asked, frowning. "Marrying me was a logical decision? Is that what you told your mother? "

"She would not understand if I told her that our union is based on feelings... She knows I embraced a wider vision, but still ..."

"Couln't you tell her we're hopelessly in love with each other? That we can't be apart anymore? "

"I did not tell her... yet. She already realized it on her own, but... she does not want things to be so explicitly contrary to the Vulcan philosophy in the presence of the Priestess..."

"Would that be... so bad? That all people present know that we are crazy for each other? "

"I doubt very much we can hide this fact, Dean" Cas'tiel said with a soft smile. "I'm not the same anymore, I will never be. I am sure that I seem, in the eyes of many of my people, as far from the Vulcan standard as... Sybok, for example. "

"Who is this Sybok? Why is this name not strange to me? "

"He created a deviant philosophy of the traditional Vulcan one, where the individual must embrace his inner pain in order to become more complete and evolve. I do not think it's a totally pointless philosophy, but taking into account what happened in the recent incident with Captain James Kirk... "

"OK, I remembered... He wanted to find God and was deceived by a powerful and malicious being who took advantage of his good faith. Wow! Can you be compared to him if you say to the Priestess that you love me? "

"Not exactly... but surely there could be repercussions that would affect my parents."

"Fine, then. Your mother seems to put up with me, your father on the other hand... Let's leave everything as it is. I understand. Our marriage is a logical matter. "

"I do not want us to start our life together like this, Dean. If it matters to you, I'll climb to the top of Mount Seleya and shout _'I love Dean Winchester and that's why I chose to marry him!',_  as loud as I can. "

"Would you do this for me, Mr. Vulcan?" Dean asked, a smile playing on his handsome lips.

"Yes. Shall I get my climbing gear? "

"No, it's not necessary... I know you love me and that's why we're getting married today." Seeming to have been only reminded of the fact, when he was ready for the ceremony some time ago, his body shivered . "Cas, can you believe that today... is our wedding day?"

"I do not believe you have realized this just in the present moment," the groom replied in a jocular tone.

Dean shook his head and pulled Cas'tiel close to him.

"Have you ever thought that you will always have to live with me from today?"

"Technically, we can still be away from each other on certain occasions, if necessary."

"Technically... I'm going to be your husband and I demand that you spend every night with me from now on. I'm being particularly illogical, aren't I? "

 "When you put the question this way... I have to agree with you. If I can, I'll never sleep in a bed other than yours, Dean. "

" _Our bed_ , Cas," he said and kissed him, just as Sam came in to tell them the Priestess was ready.

Dean's younger brother was as averse to demonstrations of public affection as T'Bek, Solvok, and all the other Vulcans present. With an audible effacement and a sudden jerking movement back to them, he said, the perceived embarrassment in the tone of his voice.

"If you are ready, the Priestess awaits you."

Dean pulled away from Cas, his eyes suddenly wet. He let his partner follow Sam to the place of the ceremony. A few moments later, with a deep breath, he walked in the same direction, his long robes dragging across the floor.

Both he and Cas'tiel wore traditional deep red Vulcan robes: mantles with broad sleeves and tall collars adorned with golden symbols. Cas'tiel wore around his neck a medallion with the equivalent of his family's coat of arms, carved from a greenish-brown gem. Dean, in turn, wore the insignia of Starfleet Commander in his chest, since among humans ancestry was scarcely marked by symbols as specific as the Vulcans. He had, however, kept in the folds of his robe a silver ring, where there was a stone inlaid from its natal moon, Oberon. This detail was a surprise to the groom and recalled the human custom of exchanging wedding rings.

The circular area where the Priestess T'Lir and the guests were was cut into the rough rock of the mountain. Its polished surface was the counterpoint of the rustic monoliths that surrounded it and from which hung elongated hexagonal shaped gongs. In front of each of them was a sentry in ritual robes, clearly inspired by the unioforms of the past, their bare torsos and faces covered by metal masks that hid their noses and mouths. They carried weapons of unusual shape, which Cas'tiel had informed him to be called _lirpas_. Despite the scorching heat, all others present were wrapped in long robes and cloaks, as the Vulcan tradition dictated.

T'Lir was an impressive sight, clad in her emerald green robe, which, contrasting with the rust-colored landscape that surrounded her, seemed to make her reverberate, creating the illusion that she was an ethereal creature. She was very old and of diminutive stature, the lines on her face telling countless stories from other times. But her haughty posture and penetrating gaze made her a woman of unmatched elegance, the undisputed focus of all attention.

When she began to speak, her clear and firm voice addressed the audience, introducing the grooms who, according to Vulcan customs, had already made a personal commitment to each other. As one of the two was not native to Vulcan, T'Lir addressed Dean to confirm his purpose there, aware of the implications of his act according to the Vulcan Law.

Dean, raising his head and looking into her eyes, nodded in agreement, claiming to be Cas'tiel his only true companion in the eyes of Vulcan society and in his heart, alluding to the sentimental bond that united humans when they made such a commitment. Being a foreigner, this statement didn't surprise or would be questioned by her.

After that statement, Cas'tiel, in whose eyes Dean who could see an emotional glow, took his hands and, in an ancient dialect, also proclaimed the intention to be united to him in marriage. Dean didn't understand what he was saying, but he noticed several eyebrows being slightly lifted during his speech.

T'Lir, however, showed no emotion at all, reiterating his position as Vulcan leader, Supreme Priestess of Mount Seleya. With a nod, she greeted the two men. As he looked up again, all the gongs were played simultaneously and their deep sound echoed through the surrounding mountains.

Cas'tiel then lifted his index and middle finger together from his right hand to Dean, who, repeating his gesture, pressed the tips of his own fingers into the fingers of his husband, walking like that, united only by that little point of contact, toward the hall where they had been before. That gesture was the equivalent of the kiss at the end of the ceremony, Cas'tiel had explained to Dean.

When they were alone again, even for a few minutes, Dean took her husband's left hand and slipped the ring he had brought with him, reaffirming his love for him. Cas'tiel, touched, took him in his arms and kissed him deeply.

As they parted, Dean, curious, asked:

"As you spoke, I noticed some strange reactions among those present, Cas. What was the content of your speech in that dialect?"

"I reaffirmed my vows to accept you in marriage according to the Vulcan law and  Vulcan society and to the precepts of Logic. I added some words that... referred to what we felt for each other. "

"You... said in front of everyone that... we married for love?" He asked, incredulous.

"Not exactly in these words, but the idea was that."

"I thought you did not want to expose your parents to this embarrassment ..."

"You deserve everyone to know that you were able to awaken in me something that most Vulcans do not allow themselves to feel, Dean. I do not regret anything I said. "

When Dean was about to start another kiss, a knock on the door alerted them to the arrival of their guests. Repositioning his hand, he offered it to Cas'tiel, an alternative way of expressing his gratitude and love.

Solvok and T'Bek entered the hall and greeted them with the traditional Vulcan gesture. Sam also entered with his fiance, Jessica. When the rest of the guests approached, Sam lifted the glass he had in his hands, and proposed a toast to the newlyweds, following the human tradition.

A lavish banquet followed, composed only of Vulcan vegetarian dishes, but as a concession to the human groom, champagne was served, since the consumption of alcohol there was not a habit. Dean believed he saw, after that, some people almost smiling and some discreet displays of joy.


	11. Chapter 11

After all the pomp of the Vulcan ceremony, the wedding at Starfleet headquarters seemed to Dean strangely simple.

Sam had accompanied them from Vulcan to reprise the role of best man in San Francisco.

Clad in their gala uniforms this time, in an austere hall, surrounded by their Academy colleagues and many of their students, they reiterated their intention to be united in matrimony.

Cas'tiel, still touched by Dean's gesture to offer him the ring with the stone of his birthplace, at the end of the celebration gave him a medallion identical to the one he wore on the previous occasion, demonstrating his welcome by the Vulcan family.

When Admiral Connor, who officiated the ceremony, proclaimed that they were married and would kiss, Dean smiled and leaned down to touch Cas'tiel's lips with his. After a few brief moments, Dean broke the contact and whispered only to her husband's keen ears:

"Close your eyes when you kiss me, Cas."

"Oh, my apologies, Dean."

His arms, however, didn't require any kind of reprimand or reminder to wrap around Dean's waist and bring him closer to his heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I conclude this story by apologizing for the liberties taken and for filling, in a creative way, some of the voids left in the canon by the series and movies.


End file.
